According to Billboard ratings, SUMMER BREEZE was ranked #2 among all albums charted
during 1973. Number 1, a surprise in retrospect, was War's THE WORLD IS A GHETTO. An
unreleased song from the SUMMER BREEZE recording sessions in July of 1972 was
"Greying Eyes of Time."

Oh hummingbird, mankind was waiting for you to come flying along.
Heavenly songbird, we were so wrong. We've harmed you.
Oh hummingbird, lend us your wings. Let us soar in the atmosphere of Abha.
Lift us up to the heaven of holiness, oh source of our being, oh hummingbird.

See the funny little man, huffing and puffing and digging the sand.
In his search for something to build, perhaps a church on the side of a hill.
Little does he know that he's working in vain.
When rain comes the hill will come sliding down and will not hold.

See the funny little man, running and hiding and flailing his hands.
Asking himself what could have gone wrong, for he has worked hard the whole day long.

See the funny little man, small in his size when compared to the land.
When will he grow up, can time wait until
The funny little man can see beyond the hill.

Say, have you ever been down, wished you had just a fin?
Say, have you seen the ground, wonder where you've been?
Say, I betcha don't know, I can tell your kind.
Say, you wouldn't try to go, 'fraid to blow your mind.
You ride a little, hide a little, close your eyes and sigh a little.
Guard your mind and hide a little. Say, can'tcha hear me say?

Say, can you see the light bleedin' through the shade?
Say, are you readin' me right, or are you too afraid?
Say, take a bit of a look, tell me what you think you see.
Say, have you ever been took? You're lookin' like you ought to be.
You ride a little, hide a little, close your eyes and sigh a little.
Guard your mind and hide a little. Say, can'tcha hear me say?

See the curtains hangin' in the window, in the evenin' on a Friday night.
A little light a-shinin' through the window, lets me know everything is alright.
Summer breeze, makes me feel fine, blowing through the jasmine in my mind.
Summer breeze, makes me feel fine, blowing through the jasmine in my mind.

See the paper layin' in the sidewalk, a little music from the house next door.
So I walked on up to the doorstep, through the screen and across the floor.
Summer breeze, makes me feel fine, blowing through the jasmine in my mind.
Summer breeze, makes me feel fine, blowing through the jasmine in my mind.

Sweet days of summer, the jasmine's in bloom. July is dressed up and playing her tune.
And I come home from a hard day's work, and you're waiting there, not a care in the world.
See the smile a-waitin' in the kitchen, food cookin' and the plates for two.
See the arms that reach out to hold me, in the evening when the day is through.
Summer breeze, makes me feel fine, blowing through the jasmine in my mind.
Summer breeze, makes me feel fine, blowing through the jasmine in my mind.

Go east of your dream and farm. Let peace and silence spin your yarn.
What harm can befall thee in yon wilderness of clove?
Go on east of ginger trees. Go soft and silent like the breeze.
With ease be off and wander in yon wilderness of clove.
Go on past the goldenrods, where fools and angels lose their odds.
And gods of our ancestors did immerse themselves in clove.
Go on toward the crimson shore, beyond this life of metaphors.
Where doors of understanding's house decorates he them with clove.

(From Baha'i scripture) "Be lions roaring in the forests of knowledge,
Whales swimming in the oceans of life."
Prepare to meet Bahá'u'llá'h in the Garden of Clove.

Note: Vahid Odin Spencer provided me with the context of the closing lyric in October of 1999 --
O Lord! Should the breath of the Holy Spirit confirm the weakest of
creatures, he would attain all to which he aspireth and would
possess anything he desireth. Indeed, Thou hast assisted
Thy servants in the past and, though they were the
weakest of Thy creatures, the lowliest of Thy servants and the most
insignificant of those who lived upon the earth, through
Thy sanction and potency they took precedence over the most
glorious of Thy people and the most noble of mankind. Whereas
formerly they were as moths, they became as royal falcons, and
whereas before they were as brooks, they became as seas, through
Thy bestowal and Thy mercy. They became, through Thy
most great favor, stars shining on the horizon of guidance,
birds singing in the rose gardens of immortality, lions
roaring in the forests of knowledge and wisdom, and whales swimming in the oceans of life.
(Abdu'l-Bahá: Tablets of the Divine Plan, Page: 107)

Sometimes in the middle of the lonely night, no one there to be his friend.
He'd grab the fiddle and he'd hold it tight. The angels there would gather 'round him.
And he would all through the night. And he would play all through the night.
And he would play 'til everything seemed alright, and I cried everytime that I watched him play.
Lord, he really had something to say. And I watched him steal away.

He built himself a cabin at the foot of a hill. He never knew the city street.
He never had much money never needed a will. All he had was one ol' fiddle.
And he passed it down to me. And he passed it down to me.
And now I'll play 'til everythin seems alright. Gonna play 'til the angels dance in the sky.
Lord, I'll play this fiddle 'til I die. I'll play this fiidle 'til I die.
I'll play this fiddle 'til I die. I'l play this fiddle in the sky.

Long long ago in a house up the road
Lived a maiden so beautiful.
Day after day she looked the same old way
As the sun shone off her hair of gold.
Someday I would go there and ask for her hand
Just as soon as I become a man.

In the afternoon she'd sit in the shade
And wave as I watched from down the road.
Time after time I wished my head to lay
In her arms and at last she would know.
Then one day a stranger came to call
And took her far away from down the road.
I watched 'til the dusk from the fields down below,
But in vain for the night began to fall.
Then came the message that summoned me to town,
And my knees gave way to the ground.

Spoken: They say that this message came with her dying breath,
The very last words she ever spoke:
Give my love to the boy down the road,
And tell him not to cry, for I know.

Yesterday, I was born here. Tomorrow, I'll be gone.
They say there's a man now, down in Persia - down there.
Guess I'll walk, the Euphrates River.
The deep, deep river. The wide, wide river.
The long, long river. Spiritual river.
The river of life. The river of life.

Let the traces linger on. Many years have come and gone.
Oh how lonely man has been, without a trace of the Traceless Friend.

Everyday day, brings us closer. Every night, my soul sees
A worried mankind, suffering blindly.
Guess I'll walk, the Euphrates River.
The deep, deep river. The wide, wide river.
The long, long river. Spiritual river.
The river of life. The river of life.

So let the traces linger on. Many years have come and gone.
Oh how lonely man has been, without a trace of the Traceless Friend.

Yesterday, I was born here. Tomorrow, I'll be gone.
And so I'll walk, the Euphrates River.
The deep, deep river. The wide, wide river.
The long, long river. Spiritual river.
The river of life. The river of life.

I used to look out from my window and see the tall grass in the wind.
Standing there just like advance guards waiting for the battle to begin.
My mother used to be much younger. She'd sing me soft, sweet lullabies.
I saw my fortress in the mountains each time I looked into her eyes.

But now she's gone,
Take me there, take me there, I don't care where we go.
Take me I just want to know what I used to know.
Take me there, take me there, I don't care where we go.
Take me there, take me I just want to go.

My father's hair has turned to grey now. I never stopped to ask him why.
And all the things that he onced treasured, I see them slowly drifting by.
And now I look out from my mountain and see the soldiers in the field.
It won't be long now 'til they have me. This time advance guards are for real.

Come on, come on and
Take me there, take me there, I don't care where we go.
Take me I just want to know what I used to know.
Take me there, take me there, I don't care where we go.
Take me there, take me I just want to go.

He gets up every morning and he lights upon the floor.
He migrates to the washroom and he opens up the door.
The whiskers on his chin tells him he's in, and then
Through the paste and the soap, sees an image without hope.
He's a broom of a fellow, an oddity in parenthesis.
So infected with disease of yellow dirt down in his soul.

He usually spends his spare time counting hairs upon his arm.
The ants upon the cupboard to his thinking add their charm.
He never starts to notice that his shoes are full of lead.
He's dead, through cough. Labored breathing, he is seething.
He's a sandwich of a fellow, an all-spread personality.
So infected with disease of yellow dirt down in his soul.

Last night a thousand stars were his to mold like clay, and so
In one split second's anger he did reach and take a hold.
He saw himself a captain way off in some kissin' situation.
That would have made his father proud, he laughs out loud.
He conceals the hurt. He reveals the dirt.
The yellow dirt down in his soul. The yellow dirt down in his soul.
The yellow dirt down in his soul. The yellow dirt down in his soul.